The Best Week of Our Lives
by FanGirlMubbz
Summary: Five years after the war and after the worst day of his life, Draco Malfoy finds himself in a hole-in-the-wall bar, drowning his sorrows. He's distraught over life until Hermione Granger walks through the door, sparking something inside him. They seek solace in each other and embark on an adventure that changes their lives in more way than they could predict.


Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling…but we all know that, right?

Post DH, canon except for the epilogue. Rated M for a reason. This will be your only warning.

Author's Note: Hello fellow Dramione shippers! In the spirit of honesty, I'm going to admit that I HATE author's notes. I love reading them…when they come from someone else. So I will not be torturing you with long-winded chats before chapters with the obvious exception of this one.

I know. It's a bummer.

Now, if you're still reading this, I just wanted to give a little explanation behind this fic. I've been reading Dramione fic for YEARS and while I attempted to write a couple multi-chap fics roughly 10 years ago, I was never great at finishing things. Now that I've finally learned how to finish things (Yay for productivity!) I REALLY wanted to write a Dramione fic. This particular fic is a fun side project so I can't promise speedy updates but I have already written seven chapters and if I stick to the plan of uploading once a week, I should have a pretty decent headstart on my procrastination issues. I wasn't originally going to post this anywhere. I just wanted to write and enjoy Draco and Hermione's relationship but I love them so much and I love that people are still writing stories about them that I couldn't help myself.

So if you've made it this far, if you read the summary and clicked, if you made it through what I promise is my only long-winded author's note, give this a chance and I hope I've done these two the justice they deserve.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Best Week of Our Lives

Chapter One

The firewhiskey burned down Draco's throat in a satisfying way before he set the bottle on the sticky, wood-grain bar. After making it through one of the most tumultuous days of his life, he hadn't been able to bring himself to go back to the Manor so he'd found the cheapest wizarding hotel in London that _wasn't_ the Leaky Cauldron in the hopes that nobody would bother to look for him there. He'd tried to sleep but it had been fruitless, the horrors of the day playing over and over again in his head until he'd finally given up. He'd wandered outside, planning to take a walk in the chilly air of the winter night to get his thoughts straight but he was spurred in a different direction. Namely, the dark and crusty hole-in-the-wall pub next to the hotel.

That was an hour ago and half a bottle of the most expensive firewhiskey behind the bar and he didn't feel any better. His blood was humming through his body, the alcohol making him feel lightheaded but it wasn't enough to chase away his demons.

He'd never felt so lost in his life, including when Voldemort called Malfoy Manor home or anything else that occurred during the war five years ago. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts but there was no one for him to seek comfort with. No one to lose himself in, no one to occupy his body and mind in a way nothing else could tonight.

Sure, he could go out somewhere that was more high profile, find some pretty girl without a brain in her head that would sell her soul for a night with Draco Malfoy, but that wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to be recognized as a Malfoy today, not after the news hit the Daily Prophet and the press would be out for his blood. Besides, he wouldn't be able to sit in a room with one of the airheads he normally slept with for five minutes let alone long enough for him to work his charm, a charm he wasn't sure he would be able to summon. There was a pit in him, something that became bigger and bigger as the day went on, worsening with each passing minute, and it wasn't a void that would be easily filled.

As he thought that, he noticed a girl plop onto a barstool four down from him. She didn't notice him as she wearily asked the barkeep for a bottle of his finest firewhiskey, the same kind Draco was currently drinking. The last time he'd seen her in person and not on the cover of _Witch's Weekly_ or _The Daily Prophet_ had been four years and seven months ago. Six months after his Death Eater trial, the very trial in which she'd spoken on his behalf, playing a very big part in the reason why he was able to be sitting in this grungy pub instead of rotting in Azkaban.

He'd been on a date with a voluptuous blonde who had wanted to be the next Mrs. Malfoy but hadn't lasted until morning and _s_ _he'd_ been with Ron Weasley, enjoying what looked like it was supposed to be a romantic dinner out. Instead, she'd looked miserable and bored while he couldn't stop himself from checking out every girl in the restaurant, including Draco's date, and sneering at Draco, who happily returned the expression.

Tonight, her hair was smoothed back into a ponytail, a stark contrast to the wild curls that usually adorned her head, except for the stray hairs that couldn't be tamed no matter how hard she tried. He could tell from here that her large brown eyes that usually shone with curiosity, or anger when he was nearby, were red and puffy, glazed over with emotions that he could relate to today.

Sadness. Loneliness. Despair.

She was wearing a sleek black coat that stopped at her shapely thighs, the silver buttons catching the dim lighting in the bar as she slipped it off, setting it on the empty stool beside her. They were the only two in the bar, except for the old barkeep, so there was no one else to admire how well her deep purple jumper hugged her body, and no one to judge him for doing so. He was simply lucky she hadn't seen him yet because the alcohol he'd imbibed had stolen the art of subtlety from him, making him openly stare as his brain begged him to look away before she caught him.

Something pulled him to his feet as she dug in the pockets of her form-fitting black slacks for the galleons to pay for her booze. "Let me," he said as he sidled over to her, tossing some galleons on the bar as he leaned against it, enjoying the shocked look on her face. "Well, well, well," he drawled dramatically, "if it isn't know-it-all Granger come to drink away her misery."

She groaned, her head falling forward to hit the bar, immediately coiling away from it as she realized how gross it was. "Of course. Draco Bloody Malfoy's here to make my day impossibly worse."

The barkeep placed the bottle and a shot glass in front of her but she made no move to take it, tilting her head to give him a sharp look. "I was here first, Granger. If anyone showed up to make someone's awful day worse, it's you." He nudged the bottle towards her, taking a sip of his own that he was holding in his hand.

She pushed the bottle away, grabbing her coat off of the stool next to her while giving him a look that made him feel like the equivalent of gum she'd scraped off the bottom of her shoe, a look he'd given her plenty of times during their school years. She jumped down, her simple black heels clicking against the scuffed wood floor. "Fine. You can have the bar to yourself, Malfoy. I'm going to run while I still I can and drown my misery somewhere else."

She turned to leave and panic shot through him. The moment she'd spoken to him, thoughts of the day from hell faded to the back of his mind, and he didn't want to be alone. She might be Granger but she was a person, someone he'd known, and hated, for years. He didn't hate anyone anymore, except maybe himself, and he was in desperate need of company, even if it was company that hated him. He reached for her, his long and slender fingers encircling her wrist, and pulling her to a stop before she could take a step.

She looked at his hand and back to him, repeating the process a few times, before locking on his face, looking at him in bewilderment. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

He didn't remove his hand and tried to summon up his trademark smirk, coming up short if Granger's frown was any indication. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to chase you out of here. I only came over because I'm tired of drinking alone and thought maybe you'd want to drown our sorrows together." He released her arm, smoothing down his suit jacket so he wouldn't touch her again. He imagined that he looked like a mess complete with his rumpled suit where the tie was long gone, messy hair from running his hands through it over and over again, and bloodshot eyes from the alcohol and his breakdown in St. Mungo's earlier in the day. "But if you don't want to, I can take my firewhiskey to my hotel room and leave you to your business."

He didn't appreciate the way her jaw hung open as she gave him an appraising look. Though it did bring his attention to her full pink lips, the slightest bit of moisture glistening on them, captivating him. "Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?" she asked in an awed whisper.

Affronted, he pushed off the bar, stepping around Granger. He wasn't the same boy he used to be but he wasn't going to tell her that. Fact was that he didn't want to defend himself or the person that he used to be because he wasn't sure he deserved it. What had he done since the war to deserve forgiveness and understanding? Nothing, that was what. He should be alone in that dank little hotel room, drinking by himself, proving how pathetic he really was.

It was her turn to grab him and bring him to a stop. "You don't have to leave. It's just weird to have a conversation with you for this long without you insulting me." She frowned again and a part of his brain, the part that was soaked in alcohol, was surprised to find that she was just as pretty when she was frowning as she was when she was smiling. Though, he was having a hard time remembering that smile and it wasn't like he could summon up a memory of her directing one at him. He'd never had one directed at him. "Plus, I don't think I've ever heard you say you were sorry," she said, refocusing his attention.

He looked down at her, taking in the delicate features he'd spent hours at Hogwarts memorizing from a distance. "I've been known to say sorry on occasion, not often but more than I did as a kid. And I did insult you. I called you a know-it-all."

"Calling me a know-it-all isn't really an insult, it's more stating a fact that I have a certain trait that I am not ashamed to have. Besides, that's tame compared to other things you used to call me," she said with the saddest smile he'd ever seen. Not the kind of smile that he wanted to be responsible for but the kind he deserved.

He cringed and pulled away from her, taking another swig from the bottle. "I don't use that word anymore." A part of him was second-guessing his decision to drink with her since it felt like she could see right through him, see what a sad state he was really in, but that evaporated when he looked at her to find, instead of the pity or hatred he expected to see, understanding in her eyes. She was miserable too and she didn't want to be alone, that much he could see, and he wondered if she could see the same thing reflected in his eyes.

"Sit, Malfoy, and help me drink this expensive firewhiskey that you so gallantly paid for," she teased him as she set her coat back on the empty stool and took her seat back, small hands patting the leather barstool next to her.

"I've got my very own bottle," he said, waving it in front of her face as he sat down, frowning as he realized that there was only a quarter of a bottle left. Maybe he was a little drunker than he thought because he could have sworn the bottle was over half full when she'd sat down.

Ignoring him, she grabbed a second shot glass that the barkeep had brought over at some point. "I think we should set up some ground rules first," she said as she poured the amber liquid into the glasses.

"Of course you do," he said with a roll of his eyes but it was lighthearted, more of a statement than a jab.

"First," she said, sliding the glass over to him before picking up her own. "No talk of Hogwarts or the war or people involved with it. Second, no insulting the other, no matter how tame. And third, we never speak of this night again, to anyone, understood?"

She moved to clink her glass against his but he held it back. "If we can't talk about that, what can we talk about?" he said, making a good point. They may have been five years past the war and four years past their return to Hogwarts but the wizarding world was small, leaving them with limited social options. Many of the people he spent time were the same people he hung out with during his school years, give or take a few loyal Death Eaters and war casualties. He surmised that Granger's situation was much like his. Well, you know, except for the Death Eaters. No matter what changed over the years, he would guarantee that Granger didn't spend her free time spending quality time with reformed Death Eaters.

Granger shrugged, keeping her glass held up in the air. "I don't know. We'll figure it out or we'll be drinking alone. I mean, you can talk about what you want but I don't need any reminders of what happened back then and I don't want to talk about the Weasley's or Harry. Those are my nonnegotiable rules. Take them or leave them."

He didn't know why she was so touchy about the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio but he wasn't going to push her, mostly because he couldn't bring himself to care about the other two. She was a different story. She was always a different story. He'd always been intrigued by her, by the way her very existence seemed to challenge his belief systems, and the farther he got from that young boy, the more he thought of her. He'd given up the pureblood ideology a long time ago, right around the time her screams had echoed through the Manor.

Chasing away thoughts of a darker time, he raised his glass and said, "I accept your rules." They clinked their glasses together and slammed their drinks, the alcohol gliding smoothly down his throat. "But first, let's clear something up. I get the no insult thing, even though it sounds impossible, I understand it, but are you really so ashamed of sharing a drink with me that nobody else can know this happened?"

She grinned, a delightful sight, and poured two more shots. "Maybe it's not sharing a drink that I want to keep secret as much as it is what could transpire tonight with the two of us drinking alone with my hotel room right next door." With a wink, she put his full shot glass back down in front of him and downed hers.

 _She was in the same hotel as him_.

That was his first thought. His second made him spit out some firewhiskey in a very unattractive manner. "Granger," he managed to say after he gained control of himself. "Are you trying get me drunk and take advantage of me?" he asked in a teasing manner but he was curious as to whether she was serious.

How could he not be?

She laughed loudly and slapped his thigh with her hand, startling him. "Of course not, Malfoy. It was a joke." She sounded sincere but the way her hand lingered on his leg before retreating to her own lap told a different story. "Like you would ever sleep with a Muggleborn," she said with the slightest hint of bitterness.

And just like that, the strange good mood he'd been experiencing thanks to witnessing this _very_ different side of Granger disappeared. "Why are you still here if that's what you think?" he snapped, an old bitter anger rising in him. "Do you really think that I would have asked you to stay here if I was the same Draco Malfoy you knew? Do you think I would have put myself out there to see if a lonely looking Hermione Granger wanted some company if I was the same stupid kid?" He originally wasn't going to defend himself but he couldn't stand the idea of her thinking of him that way. He wasn't proud of who he was now but it wasn't because he was still the same hateful person. It stemmed more from the pit of depression he'd found himself in the last few years which wasn't that much better. "I'll have you know that not only have I shagged my fair share of Muggleborns but I've also slept with some Muggles. As far as I see it, that's proof that I'm changed man."

She snorted loudly and took another shot. "Well congratulations, Malfoy. You've moved past your blood prejudices long enough to indulge your more primitive urges. Would you like your trophy now or later?" She paused dramatically, looking around the room like she was searching for something. "I don't have it on me but I'm a witch. I'm sure I could transfigure something in here for you. "

He chuckled, shaking his head and finishing off the last of his bottle. "Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best angle to argue but I am serious. Maybe I haven't made this clear yet but I am definitely not the boy you knew and I definitely am not as stupid as I used to be. I dropped all that blood purity stuff right around the time Voldemort moved into my family home."

At the mention of Voldemort's name, the old barkeep gasped and dropped a mug he was pretending to wash as he eavesdropped on their conversation. The war may have been over for five years but some fears were too ingrained in people for them to forget too quickly. Hermione, meanwhile, didn't seem to notice. She was too busy thinking far too hard. He recognized this particular expression, not just because she wore it on an almost constant basis while they were at Hogwarts, but because he'd always thought it looked somewhat…painful. He always got a headache whenever he thought that hard.

"I think we should make an amendment to my original rules," she said as she poured two more shots. "No more assumptions based off of our previous grim experiences. We start fresh tonight and do our best to pretend that our pasts never happened."

He choked on the alcohol that was currently making it's way down his throat. "Are you s-serious?" he sputtered. He stared at her wide-eyed before bursting into obnoxious laughter while she sat there looking mildly offended. "Do you really think the two of us could ever forget what happened?"

She flushed but held his gaze, her spine stiff and chin held high. "I think if we want this to last more than five minutes, we're going to have to forget our pasts," she said rather harshly. Abruptly, she sighed, her shoulders sagging moments before she leaned in closer to him, much too close. "I don't want to be alone, Malfoy," she murmured.

He observed her for a minute, thoughts running rampant through his mind. A strange idea came to him and he shook it off, only for it to come back immediately. "I have an idea," he started tentatively, continuing when she looked at him with curiosity. "what if every time one of us makes an assumption about the other, we have to take a shot?"

She laughed again, chasing away his demons every time the sound rang out in the empty bar. A strange need was growing in him, a need to do whatever he could to hear the sound again. Shaken, he took a gulp, grimacing as he set it down. Unaware, Granger took a shot, making a face before slamming the cup down. "Do you think we have enough fire whiskey for that?"

"Oh we'll have enough firewhiskey. The real question is, can our tolerances handle that much firewhiskey?" He was already feeling it, his skin warm to the touch and inappropriate thoughts of Granger creeping in.

"Get ready, Malfoy, because I'm about to drink you under the table," she said as she poured another set of shots.

"I accept your challenge, Granger." Their glasses clinked once more as they crossed into dangerous territory since Draco was already considering a stupid decision.

They sat in a shockingly comfortable silence for a long while and Draco was happy to simply sit with someone who helped him forget. The fact that it was Granger was a bit of a head trip but he adjusting to it quicker than he'd admit to. "So what brings you here? What sorrows do you have to forget, Malfoy?" Granger said, reminding him of what had driven him here in the first place.

"Me?" He concentrated on her face to stop the flashes of memory that were currently playing in his mind. "What about you? I'm much more likely to be found in a place like this than you are," he said to distract from her question.

"Take a shot," she told him, pushing her bottle towards him since his was empty.

He smirked, his first real one of the night, most likely a record for him. "Let me guess, it's for making an assumption?"

She returned his smirk, brushing a loose piece of hair out of her face. "I guess you weren't second in our year for nothing."

He happily took his shot, a quiet voice in the back of his head telling him he needed to slow down, a voice that he ignored as he poured another shot out and placed it in front of Granger. "Your turn."

Face scrunched, she obliged. "I have as much of a right to be here as you do," she said as she swayed slightly in her seat. Draco reached forward to steady her, finding that once his hands were on her, he didn't want to remove them. "You never answered my question," she said softly as she gazed down at his hands gripping her forearms.

He took his hands back, turning in his seat so he could rest his elbows on the bar. "I take it you haven't read the papers today?"

She let out a heavy sigh, resting her head on her hand, staring at him. "No, I've been a little...preoccupied."

"Me too," he admitted sadly. "Honestly, I haven't seen them but I'll still guarantee that the Malfoy family made front page news." He didn't want to talk about this. That was the entire reason he'd come here but when he opened his mouth to say something, Granger held her hand up, stopping him.

Wordlessly, she poured two more shots. When their glasses were empty, she turned to him, hand tentatively resting against his arm. "Do you want to take the rest of our bottle somewhere else?" she whispered.

Draco's breath rushed out of him and he tilted his head to look at her, briefly losing himself in her large amber orbs. "Do you really want to do that?" he asked. All she had to do was say yes and he would, there was no hesitation in him. Since she'd walked through the door, he'd been entranced, forgetting the heavy thoughts in his mind, and he didn't want that to stop just yet.

She must have read it on his face because she nodded, jumping off of the barstool, firewhiskey in hand as she headed for the door. He didn't wait long to follow her, abandoning his empty bottle, and grabbing her forgotten jacket as he jogged up to meet her at the door. "You forgot this, Granger," he said as he stood over her. He wanted to reach out, grab her waist, and pull her closer to him, until her small frame was pressed against his. Instead, he shoved his free hand in the pockets of his black slacks. He wasn't quite sure that he understood what was happening here and he didn't want to over step his bounds.

She held her purse and bottle out to him and he took it, a sober voice in his mind asking him what the hell he was doing. That voice fell quiet as Granger slipped her jacket on and smiled up at him, a peculiar twinkle to her eyes that he'd never seen in her before. "My hotel is right next door," she said as she took back her purse while Draco held onto the firewhiskey.

He smirked and leaned forward, placing his hand on her shoulder while he whispered, "Mine too." He meant to pull away from her but she smelled like vanilla and strawberries, his drunken senses reveling in it.

It didn't help when her hand tentatively settled on his chest, becoming a little more sure as her fingers splayed out across his wrinkled white shirt. They both watched her hand as it trailed lower, taking in the hard muscle underneath his clothes, running across his stomach before journeying over to his side, her arm sliding underneath his suit jacket. Slowly, her eyes rose to meet his before her pink tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip in a subconscious movement. He wanted to kiss her. That thought was loud in his head, his hands reaching out of their own accord to grip her slim waist, wishing that her sweater wasn't separating them.

If he didn't move away from her, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from snogging her against this door, and he didn't want to do that here with that old barkeep avidly watching them. Granger must have realized the same thing because she stepped away from him, her back hitting the door before she twisted the doorknob and opened the door, a gust of cold air hitting them.

She yelped and rushed out the door, Draco on her heels. He'd been hesitant before but after seeing how hard it was for Granger to move away from him, that doubt vanished. He didn't know what was in the air tonight but this felt like a dream, something that couldn't possibly be happening. She reached back, her right hand extending out towards him, and he took it without a second thought, enjoying the feel of her dainty fingers lacing between his.

She slid on a patch of ice in front of the steps leading to their hotel and he yanked her back, almost tipping over as her small body collided with his. She laughed, the sound echoing throughout the empty street, her hot breath turning the icy air white. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, enveloping her, before dropping them, placing one hand against the small of her back to steer her up the stairs, being careful so she didn't slip on the ice again. The air was moderately warmer inside the tiny hotel lobby, the teen boy working the front desk was sleeping, his snores loud in the cramped room. They shared a quiet laugh before making their way up the creaking wooden steps, Granger grabbing his hand again to lead him forward.

There were only four floors and Draco's was on the top floor, offering a grimy view of the city. When Granger didn't stop until she reached the top floor, he wondered if she knew where his room was. When she stopped in front of the door across the hall from his, digging her key out of her purse, he had to stifle a laugh. What were the odds that they were staying in the same hotel, let alone the same floor?

Before he could think anymore of fate, the door to Granger's hotel room opened, giving off a loud squeak, and she pulled him inside the room. The door shut behind them, sealing them in the dark room. He heard Granger's footsteps shuffle across the floor and her muttered swear as she ran into the bed before making it over to the bedside lamp, turning it on and casting a faint glow in the room. Her room was the exact same as his, except for the view, the same worn brown carpet with matching paint. Her bed was king size but the frame was metal and the mattress dipped in the middle. There was a bureau with cracked brown paint and a vanity mirror above it, the only thing on the wall other than the single painting of a summer day in a field of dandelions and two rot-iron scones that wouldn't be much brighter than the lamp. But he didn't care about the room. No, he was focused on the short brunette in front of him.

She stood by the head of the bed, her intense gaze locked on him as she shrugged the jacket off, letting it pool at her feet. It was just her jacket but the action stole his breath, making his blood rush downwards. Were they really going to do this? It was fairly obvious where everything was leading and if she were any other girl, he would already have her naked and in bed, but she wasn't any other girl. She was Hermione Granger. She was the last girl he ever expected to find himself drunk in a hotel room but here she was. Here they were, against all odds. If there was any moment in this night that highlighted how far away they were from the people they were during the war, this was it. The people they used to be would never be in this situation, no matter how awful life was. He'd wanted someone to lose himself in and he'd found it. The only thing keeping him on this side of the room his need for Granger to make the first move.

She walked towards him, her hips swaying in a sultry way, and he was halfway to her by the time he realized he was moving. They both stopped in the middle of the room, inches away from each other, but neither made a move or spoke a word, silently searching each other's eyes for any sign of doubt. When she didn't find it, she placed her hands on his chest, slowly sliding them up to his shoulders before she pushed his jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. They drifted back down to his waist, holding on to him as his hands came up to cradle her face.

He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, caressing it before his head dipped and his soft lips covered hers. They stood stock still for a minute before her lips began to move against his, her body pressed against his as their kissing became more frantic. Her lips parted, giving his tongue entrance as his hands moved into her hair, tongue moving expertly against hers as she moaned into his mouth. That noise brought one hand down to her lower back, kneading her back as they ground their hips together, the sensation making Draco painfully hard as his other hand fell to her waist, slipping underneath her sweater to run across the bare skin of her stomach, making her shiver.

Her fingers deftly undid the buttons of his shirt as she kissed him hungrily, giving herself over to him. She let out what sounded like a growl of frustration to find that he was wearing a white undershirt that was tucked into his pants, preventing her from fully touching him. That noise did something to him and his hands suddenly grasped her ass, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked them over to the bed while she pulled his shirt out of his waistband, their mouths never separating. He gently laid her on the bed, reluctantly moving one hand away from her body to hold himself over her. She finally managed to free his shirt, hands immediately slipping underneath and brushing against his bare skin, making his cock twitch in his pants. He grabbed the bottom of her sweater, their lips parting while he pulled it over her head, earning a soft noise of protest from her until her hands dove into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to hers as her hips rose off of the bed to rub herself against him.

One of his hands moved up to cup her breast through the lacy material of her cream colored bra. He pushed it down, freeing her breast and kneaded it, lightly tugging her nipple, making her groan and intensify the movement of her hips underneath his. His lips left hers to leave hot kisses down her jaw, moving down her neck, stopping every couple of inches of skin to nip and suck, before he moved down her body, his head latching on to her exposed nipple while his hand freed the other one, rolling it in his fingertips while he flicked the other with the tip of his tongue, making her shudder. He undid her bra, tossing it to the floor as his hot mouth alternated between her breasts, giving equal attention to both as she writhed beneath him.

She tugged at his shirt, wanting it off, and he happily obliged, finding her mouth once again as their bare chests pressed against each other, the feel of her full breasts against him driving him mad. "Hold on," she called out suddenly, making him freeze in place. "I need my wand." Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and leaned over the edge of the bed, searching through her jacket for her wand. After he found it, he handed it to her and watched as she performed a contraception spell.

Impatient, he plucked the wand out of her hand as soon as she was done and placed it on the nightstand. He kissed her, briefly and thoroughly, before his fingers hooked the waistband of her pants and he pulled them off, moving lower so he could peel the skintight fabric away from her perfect skin. He knelt between her legs, one finger running down her slit through the soaked fabric of her matching panties. He replaced his finger with his mouth, sucking her clit through her panties, needing to know if she tasted as good as she smelled, making her cry out. He roughly pulled her panties down, depositing them with the rest of their discarded clothes, before his mouth landed on her without the barrier of the lacy fabric. He ran his tongue up from the bottom of her slit, loving the way she moaned as his tongue came into contact with her clit. Her sweet juices dribbled into his mouth, making him groan as he discovered that she tasted even better than she smelled, something he hadn't thought possible. As his tongue played with her clit, he slowly inserted one finger inside of her, adding another as her hips bucked off of the bed and her tight walls clenched around his finger. He crooked his fingers inside of her to hit that spot that he knew would set her off, one hand gripping her hips to hold her in place as he attacked her clit with vigor. He could tell she was close and it only spurred him on harder, her breathless moans and cries setting him on fire as he brought her to the edge.

Suddenly, her fists clenched in the sheets while she screamed, "Malfoy!" He sat up, hastily removing the rest of his clothes, lining his throbbing cock up with her opening as he put his arms underneath her shoulders, holding her in place as he sheathed himself in her, setting her off again with the perfectly timed thrust, her walls spasming around his member as her nails dug into his back. He didn't move for a minute, simply enjoying the feel of being inside of her.

He smoothed the hair off of her sweat-plastered face, proud of the dazed look in her eyes and the way her breast heaved as she came down from her orgasm. Her face was flushed, her skin dewy, and he was struck by how perfect she was. She looked away from him, the intensity of his stare making her uncomfortable until he nudged her face back to him with his index finger. "Don't hide from me," he said. He waited until she nodded to kiss her roughly, removing everything from his mind except for her, and his hips began to move in a slow and controlled motion. He wasn't going to last long now that he was inside of her but he didn't want this to be over, he wanted to prolong it as long as possible. As she started to meet him thrust for thrust, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his hip, encouraging him to move faster. "Oh god, Granger," he moaned into her ear as he concentrated on pulling his cock out and then slamming it home, over and over again, the sound of their bodies slapping together and their gasps of pleasure the only noise in the air, an intoxicating combination that was pushing him closer to the end.

He picked his pace up as her cries became louder and reached between them to rub her clit, effectively bringing her orgasm on. "Oh!" she called out as she writhed underneath him and he pushed himself impossibly deeper into her as his body shook over her, his seed filling her as they trembled together from their shared orgasm. He pulled himself out of her, rolling over but leaving one arm wrapped around her shoulders.

 _What now?_ he thought. He'd do anything to stay here a little longer or at least until he was up for round two but he didn't know where her head was at. Did she want him to leave? As he was trying to think of something, anything, to say to her, she turned so she was laying on her side, her hair that had come loose from it's ponytail tickling his skin as her little mouth kissed his shoulder, tongue darting out to wet his skin as her teeth grazed against him, his hand tightening on her shoulder. "That was unexpected," she murmured while placing kisses against his chest, one of her legs slipping between his as she maneuvered herself until her naked body was pressed against his side.

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"

She grinned up at him, her arm stretching across his waist. "Great unexpected," she said as her molten eyes locked on to him.

He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, smiling and shaking his head when the wild curl refused to cooperate, springing back the second his hand moved. "That was incredible, Granger."

"Not bad for a Muggleborn, huh?" she said it lightly but he could hear the worry in her voice as she stared up at him, chin resting on his chest.

He pulled her closer to him with one hand and used the other to caress her jaw tenderly. "How many times do I have to explain that I don't give a fuck about your blood?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I feel like I'm waiting for this to be some cruel joke you're playing on me."

"Me too, except I'm worried that the joke's being played on me," he admitted.

Her face softened and she grabbed his hand, kissing his palm. "I think we owe each other a shot."

He chuckled, a genuine smile spreading across his features, surprising him. "I'd agree with you if I was willing to let you get out of this bed."

She laughed, resting her head on his chest as her fingers drew absentminded designs on his scarred chest. "In my mind, you were the one getting the firewhiskey. There's no way you're getting me out of this yet but now that you mention, I'm not letting you leave either."

"Good," he said softly, grateful that he didn't have to be alone just yet, his tone drawing her gaze back up to him. She frowned and he tried to wipe the emotion from his face, sad thoughts of his family creeping in.

"You're thinking too hard, Malfoy," she said as she rolled on top of him, her voice silky in his ear. "We're going to have to fix that."

Her lips began to move lower, effectively distracting him as he watched her head move down his torso, coming to a stop just above his member. She gave him a wicked smile as she gripped him with just the right amount of pressure, her head dipping to take him in her warm and welcoming mouth. He groaned and knotted his fists in the sheets, trying his damnedest not to tilt his head back and enjoy the sensations running through him as she took all of him in her mouth before slowly coming back up. He wanted to watch this, deciding that the sight of Granger's head bobbing up and down on his cock was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

That was until she lifted her head, making eye contact with him as her tongue licked one long path up his shaft, beginning at the base and ending at the head before enveloping it with her mouth again.

 _That_ was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

He sat up long enough to pull her up so she was straddling him, needing to be inside her. He thrust up, entering her in one sharp motion, making her cry out from pleasure before her hips began to rock against his, her palms against his chest to support herself as she moved up and down. His balls tightened with every bounce and he wanted to burn the sight of her moving on top of him, her breasts rising and falling with every thrust, into his memory for all time. He lifted his head up to catch her right nipple in his mouth, drawing a gasp from her that turned into a loud moan as his hand dipped between her legs to rub her clit. As the pleasure overwhelmed her, his other hand wrapped around her back, holding her in place as his thrusts became violent, needing her to come before he lost himself.

Her body stiffened before spasms wracked through her, her glorious screams of pleasure echoing through the small room. He pulled her body close as she writhed on top of him, slamming into her two more times before his orgasm came, his hands digging into her skin as his cock twitched inside of her, the intensity of it rippling through him with the force of a tsunami.

Their panting breaths intermingled as neither of them moved and when Granger started to separate them, he tightened his hold on her. "Not yet," he whispered, his eyes closed, unable to look at her as emotion colored his voice. "Just stay here." He didn't know if he was asking her to stay on top of him with his member softening inside of her or if he wanted her to stay in this hotel room with him but he didn't think it mattered.

She placed her head against his chest, on top of his heart as her fingers trailed up and down his arm. He didn't know how long they laid there like that, it could have been hours or minutes, his fingers running through her hair, taking the silent comfort she was offering him. He didn't want this to end but he knew it was going to, regardless of what he wanted. She'd said that she didn't want anyone to know anything about what happened tonight and he was under the impression that it meant this wouldn't go past tonight. If he only had her for one night, he could cope with that but he was going to make the most of it.

He pulled out of her and moved them until they were lying on their sides, facing each other. He cupped her jaw with one hand as he placed a chaste kiss against her lips and then one more on the tip of her nose before stopping at her lips again. "Thank you," he murmured.

Her eyes were soft as she studied his face and he didn't need to explain what he meant, he knew she understood. He didn't have to be alone tonight and he couldn't put into words what that meant to him. She didn't know what had happened to him today and she didn't need to, offering him more than any nameless girl at a bar could give him.

"Were you telling the truth when you said you were staying in this hotel?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he answered tentatively, worried that this meant their night was over. "Why?"

He started to pull away from her, taking her pensive expression to mean that she wanted him to leave. When her hands gripped him firmly, holding him in place before kissing him hungrily, he was surprised. "I'm not asking because I want you to leave. I'm asking because I want to christen your bed," she purred into his ear.

Relief rushed into him and he returned her kiss with renewed intensity. "Well, that's convenient because my room is across the hall, though I'd guess we won't be the first people to have sex in that bed," he said, the sound a low rumble in his chest.

She stared at him for a minute, trying to gauge if he was serious, before throwing her head back and letting out a throaty laugh. "Are you kidding?"

He shook his head before sitting up and jumping out of the bed, enjoying the pout that came across her lips after he'd moved away from her. He held his hand out to her and she took it, a big grin on her face as she wrapped the white sheet around her body.

As they sneaked out of her room and across the hall, he knew their time was running out but this wasn't going to end without him making the most of it.

He'd guarantee that.

* * *

I hope you review but even if you don't, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! (But, seriously, throw a girl a review)

Until Chapter Two...


End file.
